This Is Where They Died, Hermione This Is Where He killed Them
by MBP
Summary: A missing moment between Harry and Hermione after their trip to Godric's Hollow in DH.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. JKR does.

A/N: It's been so very long since I've written, but I had the time and the inclination, so I thought I'd dip a toe back in. This is my missing moment... hope it does its job.

Hermione understands. He knows she does. He also knows he's having a very hard time looking at her right now. There was so much that happened after they entered Bathilda's house that he hadn't had time to really think about what had happened before they got there, and now he has no wand, and she's sorry, but still... he's not angry. That's not it. (Not really.) He just - he's not sure how to look at her right now.

He can't get the graveyard out of his head. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees his parents' headstones, and he remembers the grief sweeping over him as he stood before them. He's not sorry he gave into it. If anyone deserves his tears, it's them. It's just - he wishes he'd been alone for that first moment.

But then, there are moments when he's not sorry Hermione was beside him. If he'd had to choose anyone to have with him at that exact moment, he knows he'd have picked her. Even over Ginny. He loves Ginny. He loves her with every fiber of his being. But Hermione's been there since the beginning, since Ginny was just Ron's little sister, and Hermione has _always _been like a sister - always will be, too. So if there were anyone he'd want to have shared that moment with, it would be Hermione.

So ... he's not sorry. And he's not ashamed, exactly. He just wishes he knows what she's thinking of all of it. But it's not like he can ask her. What would he say? "Hey, Hermione - I know we're out here hunting Horcruxes and all, but when I started bawling like a baby in Godric's Hollow - what'd ya think?" No. She'd think he was an idiot.

So he resigns himself not to think about it anymore. As if that ever works.

It's all of six hours before he can't pretend he's not thinking about it. He is sitting at the table in the tent, staring at the locket, willing it to open, when he feels her eyes on him. He looks up quickly, and she doesn't have time to look away. And so he sees the concern in her eyes that she's been trying to mask ever since they escaped. He sighs and motions for her to join him.

Hermione lowers herself into a seat slowly, and now she's no longer looking at him. She's worrying her lip between her teeth, and she's staring at the table. Harry swallows. For a change, it looks like it's going to be up to him to say something.

But suddenly, she blurts out, "I'm sorry, Harry."

Now he's confused. "For what?"

She looks up, and he can suddenly see that she's more upset than she's seemed since they've been back, and he can't imagine what's happened now. He never expects her to say what she does, though.

"Harry... it's - it's my fault that we wound up talking to Bathilda in Godric's Hollow. And - and it's my fault that we had to leave your parents' graves before - before you were ready. I know you weren't really ready yet..."

Here she trails off, and his mouth is dry. She's been thinking about it, too, then. He swallows with a click and mumbles, "No, don't blame yourself. I was ok. I was..."

But he's remembering it again, and suddenly he can't seem to find it in him to make her feel better. It wasn't ok, not really. He wasn't ready to leave. And she knows that. But now her hand is covering his, and he's not sure why, but he's glad for the warmth. He tries to clear his throat and finish his earlier thought, but she says "No, Harry. It's ok. You don't have to do this. I know how hard that was, and I know you weren't ready to go, and I just wish I hadn't seen her standing there."

He nods. Now he knows he can't say another word because the snitch-sized lump in his throat is back, and it won't allow him to speak. But Hermione must know that, too, because her grip on his hand has tightened. He stares at their hands even as his vision blurs, and he swipes roughly at his eyes with his other hand. He was doing all right. He doesn't need this now, and neither does she.

But she doesn't move, and he can't find the energy to withdraw his hand and get away from the table. They just sit there, and he know she can hear how unsteady his breathing is, but he can't care anymore. He has just enough self possession to keep his head down and his breathing marginally under control. She just keeps squeezing his hand, and then she's withdrawing it, and he looks up involuntarily - but she sees his face then, and he can only imagine how bad he must look from the way her eyes widen.

He flushes and tries to look back down, but then, without even knowing how she got there, she's beside him, and she's wrapping her arms around him, and he's burying his face in her shoulder, his shoulders shaking with the sobs he's been repressing for longer than he cares to remember.

Hermione holds him tightly and stops worrying. This is what he needed, and now she feels like she's finally doing something right.

When Harry lets go, he looks directly at her, and he feels the ache start to ease. She does understand. She always has.


End file.
